The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 465

Carson was out of the ICU, his spirits suddenly much improved, and everyone knew exactly what that meant.

He was already clamoring to be discharged, insisting they accompany him to a specific place.

The cemetery on the west side of town.

Penelope didn't want to go, but Carson held her hand and refused to let go, deliberately playing the pity card until she relented.

"You're a terrible old man!" she said, her voice choked with emotion.

Carson laughed. "If I'm so terrible, I suppose I'll go straight to hell when I die."

"Don't say such things," Penelope chided, frowning. "You were, at the very least, a good husband and a good father."

In the early winter cemetery, everything had withered, leaving only bare tombstones.

For once, Mrs. Stapleton remained lucid, barely reacting even when she saw Penelope. She pushed Carson's wheelchair ahead of her, neither of them speaking, their gazes fixed on a distant point.

Theodore and Penelope followed behind, ready to lend a hand if Mrs. Stapleton struggled with the chair.

No one spoke the entire way.

When they finally reached Lorraine's grave, the sight of the photograph on the headstone shattered Mrs. Stapleton's composure.

"What is this place? It's so cold here! Lorraine isn't here, she's at home waiting for us!"

Even after twenty years, Mrs. Stapleton still couldn't accept the reality of her daughter's death.

Muttering to herself, she turned to leave, but Carson grabbed her hand.

"Renata, have you forgotten again? Lorraine passed away. It's been twenty years."

Mrs. Stapleton ran over, trying to push Carson away, but he pulled her down to sit beside him in front of the headstone.

"Renata, do you remember the first time Lorraine called me 'Daddy'?"

As if transported back in time, Mrs. Stapleton's expression softened. "She was six months and three days old."

"Yes. I came home from work that day, and she insisted that I hold her. I hurried to change my clothes and wash my hands, and then I picked her up. She was so excited, patting my shoulders with her little hands, giggling and drooling everywhere."

"I was the one who held her every day, but she always seemed to like you more," Mrs. Stapleton said with a hint of indignation.

"That's because I would lift her up high and spin her around. You never let me do that, afraid I'd slip and hurt our daughter."

"It was dangerous."

"But Lorraine loved it. So I'd trick you into getting her bottle, and while you weren't looking, I'd lift her up and spin her around a few times. When I held her again, she'd be eager for more. I'd tell her, 'No more, Mommy will see and scold us.' And it was as if she understood. She shook her head fiercely, and when I still wouldn't give in, she called out, 'Da-da.'"